A/N: This will be a place for Legolas short stories. H/C will likely feature heavily.
I've recently become interested in the friendship Legolas and Gandalf might have had. They seemed very at ease with each other in both the LoTR films and BoFA, so that's what this first short story will explore. I'd love to know what you think of a misadventure with the wizard. ^_^
Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit from these stories. I simply enjoy challenging and stretching my writing muscles by playing in the amazing Tolkien's sandbox.
Title: "Flies and Spiders"
Summary: Even wizards shouldn't stray from the elven path in Mirkwood. Pre-Hobbit
Characters: Legolas, Gandalf
Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort
"Flies and Spiders"
This was quite a pickle the great wizard, Gandalf the Grey, found himself in. He'd been traveling through Mirkwood on his way to Erebor, and had strayed from the elven path. He knew better, of course. The forest was growing darker under the Shadow's influence. Evil creatures infested its depths, having claimed the south, and ever-encroached on the northern borders of the wood-elves' kingdom. Even the elven path through the forest was not completely safe, and when Gandalf had come upon massive webbing blocking the way, he had decided to try going around, rather than disturb any spiders that might have been lurking in the trees ahead. The wizard had thought it strange a nest might have cropped up this close to the wood-elves' dwelling, but Thranduil's people were hard-pressed more and more each day to drive the darkness back. Perhaps he should make a short detour to the palace to report this sighting.
It really shouldn't have been that hard to wind a course around the webs and return to the elven path—he was an Istar, after all—but he hadn't counted on the spiders setting a trap. The webbing had been a diversion, apparently, and Gandalf had unwittingly stepped into the real snare that lay a mere few yards away. Now he was staring down a particularly fat giant spider, whose head almost came up to his waist, while four more scuttled in from behind or skittered down the trees.
Gandalf heaved a sigh, tilting his staff to grip it with both hands. The head spider chittered in excitement.
"Fresh meat," it hissed. "How much meat under those robes, eh?" It crept forward, and Gandalf brandished his staff, driving it back. The creature spat in anger, a dozen beady eyes flashing dangerously.
The wizard whirled at a snapping twig, cracking the end of his staff under another spider's mandible before it could bite his legs. The squishy body went flying to bounce across the ground. With a screech, two other spiders charged him at once. Gandalf uttered a word of command, and the crystal nestled in the crown of his staff blazed forth with an explosion of light. The arachnids shrieked, cursing the bright luminescence. Gandalf pivoted in a circle, swinging his staff around to strike any spiders that were getting too close. Although, if he was going to dispatch them, they'd have to get near enough for him to crush their bulbous skulls. The light receded, plunging the forest into gloom once more.
"Go back to the shadows!" Gandalf commanded.
The lead spider clacked its pincers in what sounded like laughter. "Look around you, wizard. We are in shadow!" With that, the beast reared up on its back legs, flailing its front appendages in pantomime of a charge.
Gandalf barely had time to brace himself as the spiders surged forward again. He clubbed the ones on the ground with his staff, but failed to see the one in the tree branches leap. A heavy weight slammed into his back, propelling him to the ground. He landed with a grunt, and attempted to roll over before the spider could jab him with its stinger. Pointed legs clawed at his cloak, the excited voices rising in pitch. Then the bulk crashed down on the wizard again, only this time unmoving. Gandalf heard the other arachnids hiss furiously, and he struggled to shove the dead weight off.
An arrow zinged over his head to strike a spider between its many eyes. Gandalf looked up in surprise as an elf dropped from the trees, firing another arrow as soon as he rolled into a crouch. The lithe figure was up on his feet a second later. The next bolt he shot, however, failed to pierce the spider's hide. Flipping his bow over his shoulder, he exchanged it for a pair of twin daggers, which he deftly thrust through the spider's body and neck. With a squelch, he wrenched the blades free and let the beast thud on the ground. Blue eyes glinting with cold fury, the elf spun around to make sure no other assailants remained before he turned toward the wizard.
"Legolas," Gandalf breathed in relief as he staggered to his feet. He was not ashamed to admit he was quite glad of the Mirkwood prince's arrival.
"Gandalf." The elf inclined his head in greeting. As he lifted his gaze, a twinkle of mirth entered his eyes. "Are you trying to prove my father right that you always bring trouble wherever you go?"
Gandalf harrumphed. "I brought no such thing. The spiders were laying in wait for me." He regretted his words immediately as Legolas's face fell.
"We cleared the nest in this quadrant two days ago." He swept his gaze across the forest floor at the curled up corpses, then up through the trees toward the webbing that barred the elven path. "They should not have returned so boldly and quickly. Forgive us, Mithrandir. You should have been able to pass here unmolested."
Gandalf softened his tone. "It's no fault of yours, Greenleaf. Your people fight bravely and are doing all they can."
"It is not enough." Gripping his twin knives, Legolas strode toward the path. Gandalf hobbled to keep up, and found the prince hacking down the webs. As the wizard looked around, he noticed the absence of a patrol.
"Legolas, what brought you out here?" He left out the 'alone' part of his question. These were dark days indeed when an elf shouldn't wander freely in his own land.
"The trees whispered of a visitor," Legolas replied as he sliced through a strand of silk. "When I realized who they meant, I thought to come meet you."
Gandalf leaned on his staff. "And well that you did."
Legolas paused in his eradicating to flash the wizard a brief smile. "I'm sure you would have handled them."
Yes, well, he likely wouldn't have escaped unscathed. Five giant spiders was a lot, especially for an Istar who didn't have a sword. Gandalf made a mental note to remedy that someday.
Wait, there had been five spiders, but Gandalf could only recall Legolas killing four…
The elf prince suddenly jerked ramrod straight, whipping his gaze to the right. Tree branches thrashed, accompanied by cacophonous clicking. Legolas flipped his knives back into their sheaths and drew his bow. In a second swift motion, he'd nocked an arrow and let it fly. A sharp squeal echoed from beneath the foliage.
"Run, Gandalf!"
The wizard let out a huff and gripped his staff defensively. As if he would truly leave the prince to battle these monsters alone. Legolas felled two more hidden beasts before he turned to flee, but as he did so, a net of milky white strands came flinging through the air. It caught the elf in the side, wrapping around his torso and tangling around his arms. Legolas tripped and went sprawling on the ground.
Gandalf surged forward to free him when he felt something catch his ankle, and then he was plummeting toward the earth. Twisting midair, he landed hard on his elbow, which made him drop his staff. A sheet of sticky gossamer settled over him, threads clinging to his clothes, skin, and beard. With a frustrated grunt, Gandalf attempted to reclaim his staff, but a twiggy leg stomped down next to him, almost impaling his hand.
He spotted Legolas wrenching his arm back in an effort to get one of his knives. Just as the elf was about to free the blade, one of the spiders plopped down on top of him. Legolas gave a sharp cry of pain, and then his movements began to lessen.
Gandalf struggled harder, lips moving in an incantation. Yet before he could complete it, the lead giant spider from before skittered up and smacked him hard with its leg, sending the wizard flipping over to crash into a tree. His head cracked against the trunk, and blackness swarmed down on him.
When Gandalf regained awareness, he groaned at the throbbing in both his head and arm. He sincerely hoped nothing was fractured. He tried to move, but found his limbs tightly bound in something gummy and elastic. High-pitched voices reached his ears then, a grating dissonance that could only come from the spawn of Ered Gorgoroth. Gandalf closed his eyes in exasperation. This was an even worse pickle than when he'd first departed from the path. He was one of the Istari, by the Valar! This fiasco was rather humiliating.
Ai, but he wasn't alone! Careful not to make any noticeable movements, Gandalf craned his neck to survey his surroundings. Rock walls rose up around him, nearly every inch draped in sticky webbing. A dim glow filtered in from the cave's large opening a few yards away, illuminating several silhouettes gathered at the entrance. For the moment, the giant spiders appeared preoccupied with something. Upon closer inspection, Gandalf spotted his staff lying in the center of the circle of spiders as they kicked it back and forth between them. Well, at least he hadn't lost that, but for the moment he tore his gaze away in search of something more important.
Gandalf blinked to let his eyes adjust to the gloom of the cave, and found Legolas laying only two feet away. The elf prince was also wrapped in constraining spider silk, complexion almost as white as the cobwebs. His half-lidded eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling. Gandalf uttered a dwarfish curse, then quickly checked himself lest he draw the attention of the spiders. They seemed content to ignore him for now.
When he turned his head back to Legolas, he was startled by the sluggish flutter of eyelids. "Legolas," he hissed. "You must wake."
A small moan issued from the prone figure, but blue eyes gradually cleared of their glassy sheen. Legolas lolled his head to the side and met Gandalf's gaze. "Mithrandir?"
"Shh," Gandalf urged. "We are in a spider den."
Legolas squeezed his eyes shut as though in pain, but forced them open again, his warrior mask falling into place as he took stock of their situation. His gaze roved slowly over Gandalf. "Can you move?" he whispered.
Gandalf tugged at the net. "Not very well. A knife would be most useful."
Legolas's expression pinched in concentration, but after a long moment, he let out a wheezing breath. "The venom is still in my veins; I cannot feel my arms or legs. You will have to try retrieving my knife on your own."
Gandalf worked his jaw as he considered how to go about that. A hobbit would no doubt be useful in a time like this. With another glance at the conversing spiders, he began to sidle forward like a caterpillar, for he was certainly cocooned like one. Once he was next to Legolas, he wormed his fingers between the bands of spider silk, grasping for an ivory hilt sticking up from behind the elf's shoulder. A shriek made him freeze and whip around in expectation of being caught, but the group was still engrossed with his staff.
"Where's the glow?" one hissed.
"Smother it!"
"I can't find it!"
"Gandalf?" Legolas whispered worriedly.
The wizard returned his focus to prying the knife free. "The spiders are arguing."
Legolas furrowed his brow. "You can hear their speech?"
"Yes, as coarse as it is. All of the Maiar can."
Legolas's frown deepened, and he asked almost fearfully, "What are they arguing about?"
"They remember the light my staff cast when they first attacked me," he explained, stretching his fingers until they strained. "Spiders hate the light, as you know, but also have an unquenchable desire to devour it. At the moment, they are preoccupied trying to make it shine again."
Legolas shifted his gaze over the wizard's shoulder. "It will not be easy to get past them."
"That, my dear boy, I have already thought of. I will simply give them what they want." Gandalf's fingers finally curled around the hilt, and he slipped the dagger free. Turning it inward, he began to saw through the web cocoon. Next to him, Legolas shifted, trying to stir feeling back into his body. A tremor ran through the muscles in one arm, but that was it.
Once free of the sticky webbing, Gandalf deftly cut the elf prince loose as well. He tore the gossamer clumps off, then slowly and quietly helped Legolas sit up, frowning at how slack his limbs were. One small benefit to the poison though: it was suppressing the elf's natural glow that otherwise would have suffused the outline of his figure like a halo of moonlight. As long as the spiders didn't have another target in sight, they would continue to be absorbed with Gandalf's staff. Which he would take back in just a few moments.
Legolas tried to lift his hand, but barely made it a few centimeters before it collapsed back to his side. He scowled, which turned into a grimace. "I cannot outrun them," he said morosely. "You will have to escape on your own."
"Rubbish and poppycock," Gandalf huffed, wrapping his hand around the prince's wrist. His beard twitched as his mouth moved almost imperceptibly with a small spell. The wizard shifted his body to shield the slight golden aura from view as strength infused into Legolas's limbs. It was not a sufficient counteragent to the paralyzing poison, but would hopefully be enough for them to make a run for it.
Legolas let out a small gasp of surprise, and immediately reached up to grab his other knife. Gandalf helped him to his feet, and they turned toward the six spiders still batting at the wizard's staff.
"When I give the signal, run for the exit," Gandalf instructed.
Legolas shot him a bewildered look. "And what do you plan to do?"
"Just trust me," he grumbled back. Without further haggle, Gandalf raised his arms and shouted a word of command. The spiders whipped their bodies around, but in that moment the staff responded to the wizard's power, and the crystal exploded with a blinding burst of light that swallowed the cave in a deluge like the sun. The spiders shrieked and squealed in surprise and pain.
Gandalf gave Legolas a shove, trusting the elf to make for the cave opening. Though equally impaired by the ruthless nova, Gandalf lunged for where he'd last seen the staff. He tripped over a bulbous body and landed hard on the ground. His arm brushed a rod of wood, and he snatched it up. He could hear the frantic clacking of spider legs as they swarmed in a flurry around him, seeking the source of the hurtful light, even as they yearned to consume it. Gandalf scrambled to his feet, maintaining the intense luminosity so the arachnids remained blind just a little longer—even if it meant he too was stumbling through a haze of light. A bowstring twanged, and an arrow whizzed past his head to strike squishy flesh. At least Legolas had made it outside.
Once Gandalf sensed the spiders were behind him, he lessened the crystal's brightness. His eyes took a moment to adjust, and white spots still danced across his vision, but he could make out the cave walls and the opening several feet ahead. Now was his one chance.
Whirling to a stop, Gandalf raised his staff and began chanting. The spiders screamed in rage and charged forth along the floor and walls, their black flesh bathed a putrid gray in the pure white glow. Gandalf swung his staff around, not to strike a spider, but the side of the tunnel. There was a great crack, and the impact vibration rattled deep through the earth. The ground shook, jostling loose several rocks and boulders that began raining down on the cave. One flattened a spider mid-charge, while the quake made the others stumble and trip.
Gandalf turned to run, catching a chunk of granite in the shoulder. He hobbled toward the exit, the light from his staff now all but extinguished. Another violent groan from the mountain pitched him into the side of the tunnel. Rocks were falling all around, quickly filling up the cave entrance. Gandalf surged forward to escape when another jagged rock clipped him. Perhaps bringing the mountain down on himself wasn't the best idea.
He stumbled again, but before he could fall, hands grabbed his cloak and yanked him forward. Gandalf could barely see through the haze of dust, but in the next moment, he was out in fresh air, coughing and gasping for breath. Legolas hauled the wizard several more feet away until they were clear of the cave-in. The screeching of spiders was drowned out by the clamor of boulders, and the last arachnid was squashed in the final collapse, only its spindly legs and a puddle of black ichor oozing out from under the pile.
Gandalf let out a heavy sigh of relief and sagged against a tree. He glanced at Legolas. "See? We not only escaped, but those spiders will no longer harass your borders."
The elf prince rolled his eyes, and then promptly slumped to the ground. Gandalf frowned; that strengthening spell hadn't lasted very long. He straightened, only to find his shoulder, leg, and ribs achy and bruised. Pursing his lips, Gandalf scanned the surrounding forest. The spiders had carried them quite a bit to reach the base of the Mirkwood mountains.
He knelt beside Legolas. "How long until the venom has lost its potency?"
"A few hours." The elf reached up to rub his shoulder, which Gandalf noticed had a puncture wound through a hole in the tunic, and the flesh underneath was swollen and purple. It wasn't fatal, but the stinger's bite looked ugly and painful.
"The sooner we return you to your father's halls, the better." He slipped Legolas's knife back in its sheath, and then pulled the prince's uninjured arm over his shoulder and hefted him to his feet. Gandalf's muscles twinged, eliciting a pained grunt.
"Do not strain yourself, Mithrandir."
"I am not a doddering old man," he retorted, and took a shuffling step forward.
Legolas's lips twitched. "I would never say that. But you are injured."
"Scratches and bruises. Hardly anything to fuss over." Gandalf waved his staff dismissively, but quickly set it down again to help brace his weight. He considered lighting the crystal again to aid their path; though it was still mid-day, this deep in the forest everything was dark, the sky and direct sunlight completely blotted out by a thick canopy of gnarled branches and twisting leaves. However, he did not want to draw the attention of any other spiders that might be around.
"Thank you," Legolas said after several moments of silence.
Gandalf's beard twitched with a small smile, though the prince couldn't see it as he was focused on putting one foot in front of the other. "You came to my rescue first; I was simply repaying the favor. Although," he mused. "I'm not sure your father will see it that way."
Legolas grimaced. "You can leave me at the south gate, if you wish. I can make it back on my own from there."
"Don't be ridiculous," Gandalf huffed. "Even if you could walk steadily on your own, I would not dispatch you so callously, Greenleaf. And," he added haughtily. "I am not afraid of Thranduil."
Legolas smirked. "No? You seemed pretty hasty to leave after that time your fireworks caught on the drapes."
Gandalf shot him a dubious and mildly offended look. "That was over two millennia ago when you were still an elfling!"
"You know elves have long memories."
"Then you should remember it was you who begged for a display indoors since, and I quote, 'the trees would violently object'."
Legolas flashed him a grin. "Wizards have long memories too, I see. Father still blamed you though."
Gandalf harrumphed. "Yes, well, in his eyes you could do no wrong."
Legolas fell silent, gaze on the ground. "That was then," he said quietly, perhaps to himself, but Gandalf heard.
"Have you done something to displease him?" the wizard asked curiously. Legolas had the temper and pride of his father, though he was also unreservedly obedient as a Mirkwood captain serving his king. In fact, there were a few isolationist beliefs Gandalf would like to weed from the prince in the near future…and that could certainly cause conflict within the royal family. But as he'd said, he wasn't afraid of the elven king. Much.
"Legolas?" Gandalf prompted when the prince didn't respond, and drew them to a stop to check on the elf's condition. Though weak and pale, he didn't appear on the verge of collapse, merely sinking into his mind and whatever sullen thoughts lay there.
Legolas shook his head. "It was my responsibility to clear that nest, in which I failed. It is my duty to protect our home, and every day I lose a little more ground." He held up his hand to stave off an interruption. "I know what you would say. We are doing all we can. Yet it is not enough, Gandalf. The Shadow grows, and I must stand in my father's halls and tell him our borders are shrinking, that we must retreat further. I see the disappointment in his eyes."
"Not towards you," Gandalf said sharply. "I am sure that as much as you blame yourself, Thranduil's frustration is equally directed inward." Honestly, the two were so alike. "Neither of you deserve the circumstances life has thrown at you, but do not give up hope, Legolas. There will come a day when you need not pick up the knife and bow to walk joyously under the trees."
"Is that foresight you speak with?" Legolas asked ruefully.
Gandalf smiled. "Faith. And one is not even required to have very much of it. The size of a mustard seed is sufficient to emerge victorious." He tugged the elf forward once more, letting Legolas mull over those words. It was several long moments before the prince spoke again.
"Le hannon."
Gandalf smiled, hearing the thanks encompass more than just the wizard's encouragement. "You are welcome, Greenleaf."
Perhaps Gandalf would stay in Mirkwood for a few days. His errand to Erebor could be postponed. And yes, Thranduil would likely be furious when he saw the wizard limping in with his wounded son, but Gandalf could handle the king's ire. Sometimes friendship was more important than temporary discomforts.
